Archives For Articles

1974’s Young Frankenstein is one of my favourite films. Everything about it works. Mel Brooks manages to get the tone right, the jokes are spot on and the lead actors, Gene Wilder, Madeleine Khan and Marty Feldman, are never beaten. In fact, I want it confirmed here that I think Madeleine Khan is one of my favourite comedy actors. She plays it straight faced with the best of them.

Anyway, I’m beating around the bush because what I’m going to say isn’t easy for me. The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes’s Smarter Brother just isn’t that funny. Oh, it has its moments. Marty Feldman’s photographic hearing is a lovely little detail. Only being able to repeat what he’s heard from the very leads to a great scene as Feldman is constantly interrupted by Wilder making him a cup of tea. What could have been played with building frustration is all the better for Feldman reigning it in and refusing to get angry at Wilder’s interruptions. Other highlights include Dom Deluise and Madeleine Kahn performing an opera in English and gloriously over the top.

The rest of the film suffers from the curse of zany equals funny. Too many jokes fall flat or go on too long. The ballroom scene, in particular, with Feldman and Wilder unaware their arse cheeks are hanging out should be funny. Arses are generally funny but this scene, with added homophobia, just irks a little.

Having worked with him so much, it’s no surprise that that Wilder would emulate Mel Brooks in his directorial debut; Brooks even makes a tiny cameo. It’s just a shame this is more Dracula: Dead and Love It, than Blazing Saddles.

Extract is the story of factory owner, Joel (Jason Bateman) trying desperately to be bad, but failing miserably at every corner. His plan to get a gigolo to sleep with his wife, so he can sleep with a co-worker, goes wrong at every turn. Except for the gigolo sleeping with his wife part. That bit goes really well. So, with a cheating wife and potential lawsuit on its way being led by Gene Simmon’s rabid lawyer, Joel ends up getting caught up trying to relive his youth through Ben Affleck’s loser best friend and the seductive nature of Mila Kunis.

Like Office Space and King of the Hill, it’s the dialogue that sparkles. I like Mike Judge. I think he’s one those underrated comedic screen writers that I hold dearly to my heart. Yes, it’s a grandiose claim, but I stand by it. The characters are believable whilst being equally absurd. A special mention to David Koechner, who tones down his usual loud man schtick seen in films such as Anchorman; his annoying neighbour bringing new meaning to the word tenacious. Unfortunately, his story arc ends in a dark manner that somewhat clashes with the general ‘zaniness’ of the other 90 minutes.

Extract is neither life changing or life affirming, but it does bring a lot of laughs. Even if those are unintentionally because of Affleck’s wig; the likes of which haven’t been seen since Paul McGann in Doctor Who: The Movie. Yeesh

Corey Feldman’s first and only attempt at directing was this 1997 softcore porn/screwball comedy written by Maria James and Ronald Jacobs. Largely forgotten by many, those who have done any reading up on Busted will know it as the film that saw Feldman having to fire his co-star and good bud, Corey Haim. Despite that, and the fact Haim’s scenes largely sit on the cutting room floor, attempts were made to sell this as a Two Coreys movie in the same breath as Licence to Drive and Dream a Little Dream. I’m sorry to report that Busted isn’t even Dream a Little Dream 2.

Essentially Police Academy meets Naked Gun, Busted revolves around the Amity police department who are struggling with the distinct lack of crime in their town. Apparently, times have been hard since their town was attacked by a shark… Yes, Busted is also a sequel of sorts to Jaws. No, really. Anyway, in order to make ends meet the Head of Vice, David (Feldman), opens up their station as a brothel; allowing the sex workers to stay safe and for David and his team to siphon some much needed cash into the station. A spanner is thrown in the works when Captain Mary Mae (Marianna Morgan) is requested by the Mayor of Amity to look into unusual goings on at the precinct. Cue lots of bare breasts, simulated sex acts and grown worthy jokes that even your dad wouldn’t want to say.

Working on an extremely limited budget is no excuse for the poor effort on display, with numerous scenes appearing to be the product of the first take. Lines are rushed, cues are missed and Busted highlights itself as not being funny enough to be classed a comedy, or even sexy enough to distract from this fact. Hell, a cameoing Elliot Gould does nothing to save this utter mess. Perhaps one for the self-hating Two Coreys completest, the only truly surprising thing is how progressive the film is towards the LGBTQIA+ community. Well, as progressive as it can be for 1997.

Terri Hooley made a name for himself during the 70s and 80s in Belfast. Whilst Northern Ireland was being splintered by sectarian violence, aka The Troubles, Hooley had become the Godfather of Punk. And it all started with a desire to make Belfast a little more like Jamaica. As Hooley reasons, they’ve both got their problems, but at least Jamaica has reggae. He is a man unwilling to let life get him down. He boils down the Troubles as simply one day having lots of friends from different walks of life and then suddenly having lots of friends who were either Catholic or Protestant. His stubbornness not to get pick a side or to flee Belfast like others, made him a target for violence.

Directed by Lisa Barros D’Sa and Glenn Leyburm (Cherrybomb), Good Vibrations follows Hooley, played by Richard Dormer, as he sets up his shop, Good Vibrations, and finds himself nurturing the underground punk scene, turning his business into record label of sorts. Dormer plays Hooley with unbridled optimism. During his first experience of punk music, the camera allows us to linger on his cheer, laugh and boot stomp. This is a man falling in love with music all over again.

Whilst the film is all heart, it doesn’t hide away from the horrific violence on the streets. A rather potent scene sees Hooly and his bands experiencing a crash form euphoria as they return to Belfast after a weekend gigging. It’s sad, sobering and a reminder of what was happening at the time.

In terms of structure, Good Vibrations is your standard biopic. We witness him falling in love, struggling to make ends meet, having the disastrous first gig, discovering the Undertones and so on, but it never feels trite. Instead you become swept up it in all, relishing every moment of being in the company of Hooley and his gang of well meaning ne’er do wells.

The Beaver Trilogy is an unusual beast. Directed by Trent Harris it is, as the title may suggest, a trilogy of short films. Filmed over the course of six years, each film centres on Olivia Newton-John impersonator and seeker of fame, Groovin’ Gary who Harris met whilst trying out his brand new colour news camera back in the 70s.

The first short introduces us to Groovin’ Gary via the footage filmed by Harris. Gary is a word a second kind of guy, slipping from one impression to the next. His desire to be famous spills out of every nervous twitch and glance at the camera. The fact that he seems so nervous makes you wonder whether he truly has what it takes, or whether he’s just so excitable that he sees a spur of the moment interview in a car park as his big break. Later, Harris travels to Beaver, Utah to see Gary perform as an Olivia Newton-John tribute act in a talent contest. It’s here we see how serious Gary is in his pursuit to be famous.

The next two thirds are two short films, both directed by Trent Harris, that take the original premise of the preceding ‘documentary’ into two different directions. The Beaver Kid 2 is a dramatic interpretation starring Sean Penn as Groovin’ Larry. Whilst Crispin Glover dons the moniker Groovin’ Larry in the comedy, The Orkly Kid.

The Beaver Trilogy is more of an art house project than a true feature film, and all three movies vary in quality; literally and figuratively. As it has never had an official release due to licensing problems, the main selling point for some will be seeing Crispin Glover and Sean Penn for drag.

For me, there’s something morbid about it all. In a sense, Groovin’ Gary’s desire to be famous has come to fruition through the film, but it seems to be at the expense of his modesty. I’m genuinely interested to know what old Gary thinks of this. And whilst I can protest the point of this film, I’m half sure that if Gary does know about this film, then he’s probably happy with the results. After all, it’s not everyone who gets Sean Penn to play them in a film.

Arthur is not as bad as the critics make out. In fact, some of the criticisms I’ve read previously suggest a lot of the opinions are knee-jerk reactions to a remake of a ‘classic’. However, there are some genuine laughs to be had from our drunk protagonist stumbling between the moon and New York City. I know it’s crazy, but it’s true. (See what I did there…)

The best scenes seem to be those where Russell Brand, who plays the titular Arthur, has been allowed to run away with the script and, as a result, breathe life into Arthur. His mistrusting rant at a docile horse and his childlike reaction to being involved in a police chase stick out as being examples of how Brand can confidently play innocent and friendly. The problem is that these scenes of Arthur the man-child are bookended with scenes of Arthur the sleazy Lothario. All men are created with two sides to their personality, but the extremes shown here suggest that Arthur could be more schizophrenic than alcoholic. One minute driving around in the Batmobile; the next, talking about how he likes his women flexible. It just doesn’t work.

The inconsistency in Arthur’s character isn’t just found there. We are constantly reminded by others in the film that Arthur is a borderline genius and yet this is the man who has never seen spaghetti hoops and doesn’t understand how to hail a taxi or what email is. If he’s so intelligent, how come modern life seems to have passed him by.

The biggest problem with Arthur is how quickly it runs out of steam after the first act is over. Nothing happens for a very long time and no amount of Brand falling over furniture or gurning changes that fact. A sub-plot involving him sobering up whilst he looks after a sick Helen Mirren is all very well and natural in a film about alcohol, but it adds nothing to anything. When it’s all over you realise your mind has drifted and you’re counting the tiles on the ceiling.

I repeat, Arthur is not a bad film, but it’s not as zany and comedic as it wants to be.

Israeli Writing/Directing team, Aharon Keshales and Navot Papushado, have provided in this, their second feature, a lavish buffet of dark treats that punctures the concept of machismo and questions whether the punishment can ever suitably fit the crime.

On a bright day in Israel, a Religious Education teacher is kidnapped by two men: one is the father of a recently murdered child and the other a dirty cop looking to solve a spate of similar atrocities. Hidden in the basement of a country cottage and believing themselves to have their man, they devise ways to torture a confession out of their hostage.

The subject matter is bleak, but Big Bad Wolves also manages to be perversely funny. Our torturers take time out from breaking fingers, so one can take a call from their abrasive and interfering mother. This constant switch and bait of the genre could easily derail everything. However, in the hands of Keshales and Paushado, it’s an act of plate spinning that really pays off. The film’s humour sharpens the nastiness before and after rather than providing a welcome reprieve.

Tight scripting, solid performances and a killer ending add up to a film that proves genre filmmaking isn’t limited to the US and Australia.